


How could anyone love a pebble in their shoe?

by junebugtwin



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Misunderstandings, Platonic Soulmates, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romantic Soulmates, Separation Anxiety, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting, Soulmates, Unreliable Narrator, boy she sure does suck!, rip catra and adora, they never had a chance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:49:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28607775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junebugtwin/pseuds/junebugtwin
Summary: …And…maybe Adora thought the same about her? Maybe all of her terrible selfishness and whining and cruelness- even her annoying intolerable voice- maybe it was all forgivable too.“I missed you so much.” Adora says, and she’s whispering, her voice crumbling and stuttering like she hadn’t used it in a while. Catra smiled, smiled, smiled- nuzzling into her shoulder.“Me too.” She said- although it was pretty inaudible and sounded like she’d just garbled nails.And they both laughed, and they both cried, all tangled up together. Whole.(And for just a few moments, it was all forgivable.)In the doorway, a bitter woman narrowed her eyes, looking harshly but determined not to see anything.----or- How does a Soulmate AU work when neither participants know what the hell a 'soulmate' is?
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	1. Have you ever been close to tragedy?

**Author's Note:**

> Just to clear some things up: Soulmate's in this universe are pretty rare, and in the Horde they are even more rare, if only because the rate of death for Horde soldiers is so high. Also, most Horde soldiers do not know what a soulmate is, though Shadow Weaver, having originally come from Brightmoon, does. She's just an asshole. There's some other interesting stuff I haven't mentioned here about soulmates in this AU, but I'll leave that for you to figure out while reading! :) enjoy!

The sky is grey and solid and rusty, and maybe not even a sky at all, maybe actually it’s the same cold metal walls she’s stared at all her life. Cold- weren’t they cold? They’re supposed to be, supposed to be so frigid her bare toes curl in pain in the mornings, when the furnaces have yet to heat up.

Then why is she burning? Her skin, it feels like its melting, boiling, slipping off her muscles and bones like crow meat over an open fire, oil and juices crackling as they hit the flames.

It hurts, her head is spinning, or maybe the room is- she wants to throw up, but she can’t- because…because Adora isn’t here to watch over her? Where is Adora? She can’t be burning up without Adora, she needs to…needs her…

Catra lets out a croak, the vibration of her own voice sending spikes through her skull. She winced, hot eyes filling with hotter tears, dripping like magma.

“Adora…Adora-Adora!” She wailed, heart pounding furiously, heady steam filling her lungs, filling her head, she was so fuzzy dizzy hazy- she needed water, or a pillow, or… “Adora!” She called out again, strengthening her voice as much as she might dare.

Someone heard her.

It was not Adora.

“Cease your useless whimpering.” Voice cracking in the air like a whip, Catra hunching under the pressure of the invisible cut.

No, no, no- it couldn’t be ShadowWeaver, she couldn’t hear her, she hated her, hated her hurt her hunt her-

This is why she needed Adora! To protect her! Right! If she… if she just found Adora then she’d be safe, and nothing would hurt and she’d feel all soft and cool on the inside, instead of molten hot.

“Adora…A-adora!” She stuttered, voice breaking under the pressure of the heat in her chest.

She hears a sigh, a shuffle of movement. The light above her head disappears and a dark shadow blocking her vision, surrounding her.

“ _Enough_. This foolishness will stop, do you hear me? Your behavior shames even the worst Horde soldier cadet, I _suggest_ you sharpen up.” The bad voice is back, the fear is back, crawling up her spine, up her throat like vomit, the heat is too much- she’s shaking and her bones are evaporating, everything hurts- hurts even worse than _ShadowWeaver_. She’s never felt this bad in her life, and she’s felt bad a _lot_.

This is the nail that went through her foot, it’s getting her tail pulled, it’s being slapped for the first time, it’s coughing up a lung, its electricity coursing through her small frame, its starvation, it’s everything horrible and awful but forever and ever and _ever_. 

It’s the sort of pain that makes you want to die, to cease existing, just to make it end. But she doesn’t want to die- _she._ _wants_ . **_ADORA_**.

“Adora! Adora help! Please!” She yelled, lungs burning, throat open too wide, voice unnatural on her tongue. Catra needed Adora, and Adora needed Catra, and if she was hurt then Catra would bandage her wounds, and if she was in a fight then Catra would lend her claws, and if she was about to die then Catra would take the blow. She’d do anything for her, go anywhere for her- all she needed was for her to be _here_ , that was it. That was it. That was it.

“You would be so much more tolerable silent.”

The shadows above her darken to the point that the sliver of light disappears, swallowing her into pitch blackness. Hands, ice cold and sharp and long and bruising wrap around her neck. She coughs automatically, her ow n hands scrabbling for purchase against the fog- but when she goes to breath in again she can’t- she _can’t_ -

ShadowWeaver is choking he r.

She t hrashes, legs and hands flying, claws raking at the c ruel limbs which pu sh and push and _push_ against her throat. It does nothing- she bounces off, slides in e ffectually against, pitiful and weak and st upid and ugly, jus t like she told her she w as

and she tries to escape a n d get back and away m ove b a c kwar ds but s

he c a nt h e 

a d o r a

a d

o r a

ad-

\--

-

-

* * *

She and Adora don’t see each other for two months and four days. She figures that out a bit after the fact- the actual reality of that time is blurred and dreamlike in her mind.

She vaguely remembers being tied down somewhere very bright, and very hot, probably down in the furnaces. She thinks they actually made some poor recruit check on her, try to force feed her food that she inevitably would choke back up, or pour water over her head for some unknown reason. It might have been Kyle?

ShadowWeaver was there too at one point, the old hag. She _definitely_ did something terrible to her, because now she can’t stand to even be in the same room as her without gasping for air like a dying acid-fish. It’s not great- she’s ten not _five_ , she’s supposed to be too old to be wheezing over anything, even if ShadowWeaver _is_ pretty terrifying.

But whatever, by the time she’s stopped being all feverish her wrists, ankles and neck have been rubbed red and bloody by her restraints and throb painfully. Her neck in particular, she did a number on, as it’s horrifically bruised, black and purple and blue, and every color of a goddamned oil spill. It looks positively awful, and feels even worse- breathing is a chore even when she’s not having her little ‘moments’ in front of ol’ Weaver, and _speaking_ was out of the fucking question! She tried briefly, but the combination of her restraints and her previous ghostly wailing has basically shredded her throat. All that came out was a warbled squeak and it hurt so much she almost passed out anyway.

Of course, ShadowWeaver had to add her two cents about how much more she liked the version of Catra that couldn’t speak, ha ha, really original work. Truly, nothing she had heard before.

Of course, she hardly paid attention to the uppity bitch, mostly focused on getting back to _Adora_ while trying not to look too eager in front of the evil witch.

The two of them weren’t really used to being separated for a long time, and they’d never dealt with it well before- with this crazy fever they both suddenly got making matters much worse. At this point, she wanted to see her dumb hair poofy and stupid blue-grey eyes so much that her hands were shaking. It was _intense_ actually- it was like Adora was all she could think about, like her name was pulsing in her mind like an air siren but twice as loud- and those things made her ears bleed already.

Finally opening the door to their empty bunk room and seeing her-

It was _fucking_ amazing. She ran- she ran so hard she almost tripped and brained herself against the annoyingly cold metal floors, but she didn’t care- she didn’t _care_!

Because then Adora was in her arms, and she was _cool_ \- it was an odd thing to think, but she was cool like how she always imagined spring water would feel like- like she was standing right next to one of the big industrial fans, listening to its calming hum and feeling the blessedly _cold_ air hit her sweating shoulders in the summertime.

Catra wrapped her skinny arms around Adora as harshly as she could, trying to encompass her, to make her safe and warm and happy- _Hordak_ , she wanted her to be **_happy_** -

Apparently, Adora had missed her with equal fervor, seeing as she was practically tying to meld them together into one person. She was squishing Catra in a way that didn’t bode very well for her ribs, but it didn’t matter because she was _here_! She smelt like sweat and standard detergent and dust- she smelt like _Adora_ \- her heart beating intensely in her little chest, her mind thinking it’s anxious little Adora thoughts- and it was like- it was like everything that was annoying and irritating and actually kind of aggravating about her- it didn’t disappear- it just…it just _existed_! It was part of her! So Catra loved it _too_ \- she loved her worrying and her bossiness and the way she’d accidentally say mean things without realizing- she loved that she tried so hard, and she loved that she thought Catra didn’t try hard enough, and she loved that she boxed in her sleep and punched too hard in training because it meant that she was _Adora_!

…And…maybe Adora thought the same about her? Maybe all of her terrible selfishness and whining and cruelness- even her annoying _intolerable_ voice- maybe it was all forgivable too.

“I missed you _so_ _much_.” Adora says, and she’s whispering, her voice crumbling and stuttering like she hadn’t used it in a while. Catra smiled, smiled, smiled- nuzzling into her shoulder.

“Me too.” She said- although it was pretty inaudible and sounded like she’d just garbled nails.

And they both laughed, and they both cried, all tangled up together. Whole.

(And for just a few moments, it _was_ all forgivable.)

In the doorway, a bitter woman narrowed her eyes, looking harshly but determined not to see anything.


	2. Have you ever felt a pain so powerful, so heavy you collapse?

Adora’s experience was very different than hers apparently. She told her all about how her own sickness had stripped her of all her strength, left her lying on her cot emptily, starring at a wall with her thoughts being slowly dragged down into a bottomless pit.

She’d said she was _cold_ too- no matter how much ShadowWeaver ordered people to put blankets on her, it just wasn’t enough- she was so chilled that she was shaking, that her teeth chattered loudly in the halls.

She says that she didn’t speak- that she _couldn’t_ \- for the whole two months. Could do nothing but look blankly, feeling this horrible ache of _missing_ something, and nothing else. Catra winces appreciatively, hand to her own throat- very glad that she could hardly remember her own experience.

* * *

At first, she thinks it’s a coincidence.

The Hordes a busy place, there’s a war on; they need every hand they can get, ect, ect. The sad truth was that she and Adora couldn’t _always_ be in the same classes, or the same factory rotations, or the same eat times.

It’s whatever- Catra’s her own person, she doesn’t need to be with Adora at _all_ times, and anyway, she hardly even notices.

She hardly notices so much that she cries whenever she finds Adora’s bed empty yet again, that her claws make permanent marks in her arms at her anxiety, with no one to watch her back. She gets these awful hot flashes where she sweats like crazy and she has to throw up but it’s not a big deal! Probably unrelated in fact! She’s not crazy, it’s fine, so she’s a _little_ co-dependent, its _fine_.

Still, she can’t let Adora stew in her own stupidity for too long or she’d jump in the way of the wrong sword trying to protect someone or whatever, so she tries to find her when she can, to hang around, yknow, if she’s wanted.

And Adora does want to spend time with her- at least she _thinks_ she does- but there’s always something. Always some stupid training mission or lesson with ShadowWeaver, or she has to stich bed sheets on the other side of the factory; unload boxes on the other side of the warehouse.

It starts to make her feel _crazy_ \- coming up with conspiracies for what was going on, or trying to figure out what she did to actual offend Adora. She trims her claws, neatens her hair, is extra careful to be nice- _Hordak_ _help her_ she even listens obediently like a good little soldier when ShadowWeaver tells her to do something.

She stoops to cleaning the floors, to helping out random cadets who hate her anyway, actually going to training- all the stuff Adora was always nagging her about, in that ‘I’m better than you’ voice she missed so, so much.

It doesn’t do much. If anything, they spend even less time together- with Adora sending her these weird, almost painful looks from time to time, eyes somehow bitter- as if _Catra_ were the one doing something wrong here.

One of the rare few nights they actually get to sleep together Catra curls up in a tight ball and just _thinks_. This is her chance, her chance to finally just fucking _talk_ to Adora, to know once and for all what was going on in that dumb ponytailed head of hers. It’s a horrible feeling, to have to actually say _words_ about what’s been agonizing about for _years_ now- but she _has_ to- because some part of her is afraid that if she doesn’t now she never will.

But before she can, Adora leaves, claiming she needs to go find ‘something important’ with this weirdly intense look on her face. Of course, she doesn’t invite Catra- but she promises to herself that this is it- when Adora comes back she’s going to have that talk with her, no matter what.

Obviously, Adora must have sensed that, because she doesn’t come back.

* * *

Adora is gone, and she’s angry- she’s _pissed_ \- naturally, normally, in a sane way. Like, she’s _mad_ , but she’s otherwise fine.

So her skin feels seconds away from being hot enough to cook and egg and her blood feels like touching metal on the hottest day of the year, so her breathing is ragged and she can barely see in front of her own face sometimes, so her heart hurts, hurts, _hurts_ , so bad she can barely stand it, it’s whatever, it’s _fine_ , it’ll pass.

It’s not like she’s _dying_.

Adora steps away, all golden and white and beautiful even surrounded by ash and screaming, storm blue eyes pinching before she turns and runs, towards newer and brighter and friendlier voices.

Catra watches her leave until the thick black smoke blocks her view, until she has to go home and have ShadowWeaver growl in her ear and scrape bloody fingerprints into her arms and stare at her blank little bed with its picture that she carved into the metal wall back when her claws were soft enough that it _hurt_.

She’s dying.

And it’s all Adora’s fault.

* * *

She captures the weird one who uses the bow- she’d call him the loud one but honestly, him and sparkles are both ‘the loud ones’. It’s a great plan, and it’s going pretty well, except for the part where she thinks she’s going to actually kill this kid before they even get him back to the horde.

He’s sitting in the ships cell, curled up into a small ball and just…whining. Like literally- just a constant high pitched animal whine, like he’s on the verge of _horrible_ death. Which he isn’t! His restraints are laughably relaxed and she made sure he wasn’t handled too roughly other than a few shoves, and his cell is not particularly gross or small.

But yet!

He! will! just! not! _stop_! And it doesn’t even matter where she goes- it’s a small ship, she’s got big ears, it’s a match made in hell.

Eventually she can’t stand it any longer and stamps her way over to his cell, tail lashing. If he’s trying to bait her into letting him go he’s not _entirely_ unsuccessful, but at this point she’s more willing to kill him than free him.

“Hey! Brat! Shut the fuck up!” She shouts through the energy bars, her voice an angry snarl. He makes a whimpering sound that kind of resembles the words ‘I can’t’ if she really stretches her imagination. Rolling her eyes aggressively, she enters the cell- if this was a trap to get her into close quarters then so fucking be it! Anything was better than his constant whining.

“ _Okaayyy_ —“ She stressed the word as passive aggressively as she can. “ _I’ll bite_! What the _fuck_ is wrong with you??” She snaps, prodding at him with her toe warily. He pauses for a moment, though now that she’s close she can see that his eyes are clenched as if he was in pain, hands wrapped around his sides.

Maybe he _is_ sick or something, shit. Just her fucking luck to kidnap some dude with like some crazy disease. Hopefully it wasn’t contagious.

He breathes in harshly before speaking quickly, as if he was on a time limit.

“My soulmate- Glimmer- I _need_ her- you took me away- **_Glimmer_** —“ He pants raggedly, and Catra takes a wary step back, feeling vaguely unnerved. He was saying words for sure, but she had no fucking idea what they meant together. She didn’t know what a ‘sol’ was, but she knew ‘mate’ was like when animals fucked right? And _Glimmer_ , that was sparkles name she was pretty sure. So he needed Glimmer…for what?? And what the fuck did it have to do with sex??? She hadn’t pegged the Brightmoon kids for being weird sex freaks, but??????

She tossed up her hands, baffled, and stormed out- trying to find a wall dense enough that she could hide from the noise of some freak crying his horny little heart out.

* * *

She gets Adora and sparkles too, though things start going a bit awry as ShadowWeaver starts raving about wiping Adora’s mind while she electrocutes some kid. It’s a _lot_. But then, it’s also so very ShadowWeaver that she’s not even surprised.

Adora escapes, of course she does. Catra gives her back her idiotic sword, hands on the blade as she offers the handle, weirdly aware of how close they are- of how she could reach out and touch her, hug her, hide away in her.

Adora leaves. Catra feels okay for a while, but the awful heat comes back eventually, and she figures she’s back to dying again. It’s not quite as shocking the second time around.


End file.
